


Magic Musings

by JTHM_Michi



Series: Of Love and Fairness [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Magical Lydia Martin, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Pack Dynamics, Soulmates aren't always lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JTHM_Michi/pseuds/JTHM_Michi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia has made for herself a perfect life. She has a degree from MIT, has won a Fields Metal, has gotten married to Jackson, and has a career where people call her ‘Dr. Martin’ with complete sincerity. She has a large extended family of friends and is a godmother to her best friend’s daughter and has two little boys who call her ‘Auntie’. Her life is perfect – sure, she and Jackson go through rough patches and sometimes her bills stress her out – but overall she has a good life. She never thought her wonderful life would involve Stiles as her quasi brother with Scott as their goofy younger brother (never mind that Lydia is actually the youngest) but life is strange that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic Musings

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here's a bit of Lydia's part of this verse. This goes through both parts of the previous two parts of this verse and is the last bit of this verse that is this long. The emphasis here is very much the relationship between Stiles and Lydia, which is full of magic and feels. Enjoy!

By the time Lydia is twenty-nine she has made for herself a perfect life. She has a degree from MIT, has won a Fields Metal, has gotten married to Jackson, and has a career where people call her ‘Dr. Martin’ with complete sincerity. She has a large extended family of friends and is a godmother to her best friend’s daughter and has two little boys who call her ‘Auntie’. Her life is perfect – sure, she and Jackson go through rough patches and sometimes her bills stress her out – but overall she has a good life. She never thought her wonderful life would involve Stiles as her quasi brother with Scott as their goofy younger brother (never mind that Lydia is actually the youngest) but life is strange that way.

 She also thought she’d have her parents in her life the same way they’ve always been there – as distant silhouettes that would send cards and never call or visit. She also thought Danny would be in her and Jackson’s lives, but neither of those things turned out to be true. Of course, she also never thought she’d already have at least three near death experiences under her belt and the knowledge that she’d gladly kill for the sake of her loved ones before she turned thirty, but there you have it. Life gives you all sorts of unexpected surprises she supposes.

 She’s holding a cheaply embossed card between her fingers that reads “Beacon Hills High Class of 2014 Ten Year reunion” in glaringly tacky yellow ink against sickly white cardstock. There are even graduation caps and balloons around the edges, flushing the simple invitation into a full scale disaster. She almost wishes she had been in charge of the reunion announcements if only to keep this abomination from ever being created. She places it on the refrigerator door, text out, before grabbing her briefcase and going to work.

* * *

(Lydia and Jackson go have dinner at Stiles and Derek’s house and Stiles announces that Rebecca is in his class.)

 Allison, Isaac, Erica, and Scott all pile into her living room one Sunday evening armed with snacks and their own Beacon Hills Reunion letters.

 “Alright, Lydia is paying for the hotel while I’m paying for our food which means travel is on you two.” Allison says with a clap, grinning at Erica and Isaac, who immediately become engaged in an intense game of rock-paper-scissors. Isaac gives a victory yell a few moments later while Erica groans.

 “BOOYA! We’re taking my car down there; I’m forcing Scott to drive! Done.” Isaac says, jumping up to scurry into the kitchen.

 “Oh, come on! At least let me drive my own car!” Scott protests.

 “No, your car sucks! And your car is too small anyway.” Isaac says from the kitchen, raising his voice for Allison and Lydia’s sake.

 “I hate driving that monster of an SUV.” Scott grumbles under his breath. Allison coos and kisses his cheek, cuddling into his side. Lydia rolls her eyes at them while grabbing up the letters and putting little checks into the boxes next to “will attend”.

 “Do we know for sure that Stiles didn’t get one?” Erica asks as Isaac drops down next to her holding a Pringles container.

 “I asked Derek when we got ours; he said he didn’t see one in the mail.” Scott says.

 “This has that meddling Sheriff’s name all over it. They can’t have forgotten about him – he was Salutatorian for Christ’s sake.  If they managed to send you three misfits invites, they would have no problem finding Stiles’ address. That meddler probably stuck his nose where it doesn’t belong again.” Lydia says, magic skating across the roof of her mouth before she can put a lid on it, locking it back down. 

 Jackson and Boyd choose that moment to come home, Boyd holding two boxes worth of notes.

 “The Samuel’s case is finally done; I swear to God the next time a case involving perfectly amicable divorcee’s shows up on my desk I’m shoving it off on Brent. I don’t have the patience to deal with two people who clearly should have stayed together arguing over how much both of them don’t want their kids. Like, what the hell?” Jackson rants as he and Boyd drop off boxes and various odds and ends into Jackson’s downstairs office. Boyd drops down next to Allison moments later with a beer, greeting Lydia with an easy smile.

 “Hi everyone, by the way.” Jackson says as he closes his office door, taking his tie off. “So, have we reached a decision on if we’re going to that reunion thing?” He continues, heading up the stairs to change.

 “Yeah, we’re going. You and I are footing the bill for the hotel. Three rooms should be enough – make sure to specify that Scott and Allison need a fold out couch for Victoria.” Lydia says. Nice thing about living with a wolf pack, no need to shout to have the whole house hear you.

 “Speaking of which, we should probably go relieve Stiles and Derek from our little monster.” Allison says, standing up and pulling Scott up with her. “We’ll meet here after Scott and I close up shop Friday?” Allison asks, looking over everyone else for confirmation.

 “Sounds good.” Lydia says, standing to hug them both goodnight. Scott squeezes her just a touch too hard, as always, while Allison near snuggles into her embrace. Seriously, is it any wonder that Victoria is so nice and friendly when she comes from these two? Isaac pops up, grabbing Lydia in a hug, near lifting her off the ground, before declaring that Victoria has demanded his help that evening with her art homework.

 “You’re so whipped.” Boyd says good-naturedly. Jackson makes it downstairs just in time to say goodnight, giving Allison and Isaac hugs and Scott a “bro hug”. (Seriously, they call it that. It’s a one armed pat on the shoulder that Lydia has seen football players give each other.) After various goodbyes are said and the three leave, Jackson takes a seat next to Lydia, putting an arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple in greeting. Erica shifts his other arm so she can cuddle into his other side and it’s comfortable.

 Boyd stretches his legs out from where he’s seated across from them. Out of the whole pack, Boyd is the least tactile of the wolves. Not to say that he doesn’t like touch – he’s more than happy to let Erica or Isaac cuddle into him and he has no problem cuddling the children – but he’s less likely to feel the need for spontaneous hugs or touching like the rest of the wolves.

 “Did Stiles really not get one? An invite, I mean.” Boyd asks eventually.

 “Yeah, really didn’t get one.” Erica says and Lydia keeps quiet. Boyd’s jaw clenches.

 “That is some bullshit.” Jackson says gruffly and Lydia hums in agreement.

 “Lydia thinks _that man_ is the reason for it. I hadn’t considered that before she brought it up.” Erica says, sounding angry and dangerous.

 No one in the pack says the Sheriff’s name. Honestly, no one really thinks about him all that much, they have lives to attend to after all, but when it does come up in conversation it’s usually not a good thing. Stiles may be all about forgetting or denial, but none of the others are like that. Lydia can’t speak for the others of course, but she hates Stiles’ father. She’ll never tell Stiles that of course, not even when he’s roaring drunk does she tell him how much she hates his father, but she does. She hates him more than she’s hated anyone – more than she’s hated Hunters and other supernatural threats to her family. At least those she can kill and hurt and be done with them, but the Sheriff? She can’t kill him, maim him, make him bleed – she can’t do any of that because Stiles would know and it would hurt him. And Lydia never wants Stiles in pain.

 “Lydia, the lights.” Jackson says gently, breaking her from her thoughts and when she blinks back to herself the lights in their house are flickering like strobe lights in a club. She takes a deep breath and they stop. In the back of her mind she can hear the hiss of flames and she feels a flutter of heat in her chest for a bare moment before it dissipates.

 “Sorry about that.” Lydia says, standing to go get herself some tea. Before Stiles and magic, before swallowing fire and seeing the world for the first time, she never liked tea much. After…well, things were different after; _she_ was different. Now, she likes a very specific blend of tea – one that has nutmeg, honey, cinnamon, and a touch of mint. It took a long time to find a blend that calmed her and tasted good. The internet tells her that her tea isn’t actually tea so much as flavored hot water, but she likes it so she doesn’t much care.

 By the time she makes it back into the living room, all the wolves are conspicuously not talking or looking at one another. She eases back down into her seat, Jackson’s arm coming around her again, and gives them all a look over the lid of her cup. Jackson and Erica start talking about Isaac’s latest book and Boyd just stares right back at her, not fazed.

 “Seriously, the way he described the ravens attacking the classroom and how Ally wanted Stephan, even though they were still on a break was just awesome. I felt like I was there, which is pretty funny when you consider that I was actually still being held by the Alpha Pack at that point. And the background moment of Miles protecting Leslie was so understated but very true to whom Miles is based on. Hey, Lydia, did those ravens really rip apart Ms. Blake’s face that day? I mean, I know by the time she died she had that scar, but did she get it that day?” Erica asked, peering at her around Jackson.

 “I can’t believe you actually asked that.” Lydia said, taking a sip before answering. “No, they didn’t. She got that scar from one of the Argent minions; apparently she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course, in a setting where Hunters are known and werewolves are second class citizens, a Hunter hurting a human teacher wouldn’t have made much sense since humans who are hurt by Hunters usually press charges in Isaac’s verse.” Lydia explained.

 “Oh, that’s a good point.” Erica says, immediately turning back to Jackson.

 “I wonder if he’s going to include you almost getting cut in half before you’re rescued? Seriously, I don’t want to read about that, it was hard enough when it happened.” Jackson commented, wrinkling his nose. Lydia put her cup down softly, letting them think they had distracted her from their strange behavior when she came back into the room.

 “I wonder if he’s going to include Miles’ father abandoning him in favor of his new family like what really happened. You know, since his books are based on our adventures in Beacon Hills. Or maybe he’ll change it to something happier – after all Daniel lived in his books whereas we all know what happened to Danny.” Lydia says after a while, voice pitched to nonchalant. Erica’s mouth closes with an audible click.

 “Told you that wouldn’t work.” Boyd says to Jackson and Erica.

 “Lydia, we just thought a topic change might be good. After all, we can’t have you blowing any fuses in the house – remember that time you blacked out all of Beacon Hills High?” Jackson said.

 “You mean that time I was stressed, terrified, and so charged on magic I could _hear Stiles’ thoughts if I wanted to?_ For fuck’s sake guys, I’m a grown woman I’m not going to blackout the neighborhood if I talk about someone I dislike. I lost a bit of it earlier because I wasn’t paying attention, but I’d be paying attention if that topic had continued. There’s no need for you to treat me like a teenager.” Lydia says, annoyed.

 “We know, we’re sorry.” Erica says, before continuing with: “Besides, it wasn’t just about not getting you riled up; we’re going back to Beacon Hills this weekend, we can’t have a bash-fest over that man before we get there. We’re all adults – moving on is something we’re supposed to excel at, remember? The past happened, we can’t change it, making an evening of complaining isn’t going to do anything to help.”

 Lydia knows Erica is right, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want a night to just let it all out. Doesn’t want to be reassured that the rest of the pack is just as disgusted and upset as she is. She wants that chance to rage about him, to complain and bad mouth him in the way that she was denied when she was a teenager because there were other things to concern themselves with. She knows its petty and won’t do anything but make her angry, but she still wants the chance to get cuttingly angry about it.

 Sadly, life isn’t about getting the things you want.

* * *

Lydia was not there when Danny was killed. She was not there when his body was found either. She was asleep with Jackson curled around her and clutching her cell phone. She did not have any foreboding feeling or a sense of unease – she didn’t even wake up in the night randomly. Jackson did not so much as twitch that night and his dreams were happy and undisturbed.

 Lydia used to sit up at night and try to remember her last conversation with Danny, try to stir up the last image of his crooked smile or warm laughter. She remembers a million and one things about Danny but cannot remember what their last conversation was about. She knows that Stiles and Scott’s last conversation with Danny was about the Alpha Twin that was dating him, they were telling him to be careful. Jackson’s last conversation was about video games and how Danny was upset that Jackson kept blowing him off – it wasn’t Jackson’s fault, the Alpha Pack was taking up a lot of his time and Jackson was just trying to do the right thing.

 They didn’t even get around to telling Danny about werewolves and all the shit that was going down in their sleepy little town before he was suddenly snatched from them. Danny made the second murder victim that was caused by the Alphas, but for their little pack it was the first victim that really cemented how dangerous things were getting. At that point they hadn’t known that Erica and Boyd were little more than brain puppets, were still deluding themselves into thinking they had managed to get away before the Alphas invaded Beacon Hills, so Danny’s murder was hard. And frightening.

 (Of course, Danny had been killed the same night that Ethan and Aiden kidnapped three six-year olds whose deaths were officially declared “animal attacks”. But by that time, even the police weren’t buying that excuse and they were the ones that wrote it down as cause of death. Of course, when Danny had been killed, no one would know the three were missing for a few more hours.)

 Lydia remembered waking up that morning, not knowing that one of her friends was dead, happy and content in Jackson’s embrace. There had been morning kisses and playful cuddling and tickle fights before Jackson went downstairs to bring them breakfast. She ate breakfast in one of Jackson’s shirts with tangled hair and no make-up on. For a few precious moments, everything in her world was right.

 And then both of their phones were ringing and Allison’s voice was telling her Danny was dead and Jackson was growling into his phone, wolfed out and clearly seconds away from destroying his bedroom. She remembers hanging up her phone on auto-pilot and Jackson flinging his phone at the wall. He had cried, howled, and ripped apart his pillows in a fit of grief fueled rage. When he turned glowing eyes on her, growling, she hadn’t said anything – just opened her arms and he fell into them, clutching at her with sharp claws.

 Eventually, she ended up next to Stiles in a morgue, looking down at Danny. His face had been slashed open – left eye oozing out of place, lips twisted in a crooked frown, a chunk of his nose missing, and through a hole in his left cheek his teeth were visible. They had cleaned him up, so he hadn’t been bloody, but it didn’t make the image any less horrifying. In addition to his face, they had ripped his chest open, pulled the rib bones out like hinges on a door, and removed his organs. She learned from police reports that his heart and lungs had been found nailed to the ground near his body and his small and large intestines had been circled around his body, much like the wolfsbane ropes that Derek had around his sister’s body. The symbolism wasn’t lost on the pack; for all that it was a mystery for the police.

 But at that moment, looking down at Danny’s mangled face peeking out from a body bag, she had been terrified. She’s not sure which one of them reached out, but Stiles and her were holding hands, clinging to each other and trying to hide their shaking from the other. She said something stupid about Danny not being able to have an open casket funeral and Stiles babbled something in response, voice breathy and borderline hysterical, and she realized that she was going to die.

 And Stiles said “I’d never let that happen.” Voice grave and serious and not a trace of hysteria in it and Lydia just _lost it_. She screamed and cried at him, called him a moron and tore into him, flinging words at him that she knew would hurt him.

 “I’m not going to let you die, Lydia, _I’m not going to let that happen_.” He said when she was done. And he was serious and staring at her with such intensity that she had the passing thought of ‘if this was a movie, this would be the moment we kiss’.

 That was when they started going to Deaton for lessons.

* * *

(Our “heros” drive down to Beacon Hills Friday night with the Reunion taking place Saturday afternoon. Scott, Allison, and Victoria took Friday evening and Saturday morning to visit Mrs. McCall who is alive but walks with a cane now from an injury given to her from the Alpha Pack. Because they were assholes who spared no one.)

 The Reunion started at 3:30pm and went until 6pm. There were sandwiches and soda offered and soft music playing in the background. The gym was done up in much the same way it had been for their graduation all those years ago - only difference was the huge banner at the entrance that said “Welcome Back, Class of 2014!”

 Boyd and Erica were talking with a couple Lydia vaguely recognized - they were both slightly overweight and squeezed into clothes that made them look twice as big as they were. Erica was hanging off Boyd’s arm and her mouth was upturned in a devious smile. Lydia thought the couple were Amy and Evan, she knew Amy in passing and Evan used to be on the swim team with Jackson.

 Emily Aimnighte, once head cheerleader of Beacon Hills cheer team, was chattering at her and Jackson. Her voice was exactly as grating as Lydia remembered it being and her laugh was a touch more nasally than it had been when they were teenagers.

 “I just can’t believe you two are still together! Me and Chad broke up almost right after graduation, can you believe it? I saw him earlier; I really dodged a bullet, he lost all his hair. Already, I know! Do you two have any kids yet?” Emily asked all at once, barely pausing to breathe.

 “No, should we have some?” Lydia asked, cocking an eyebrow at Emily.

 “Oh, no, I just thought...you know, what with Scott and Allison. Poor dears, must have been a real bummer when they found out...”Emily trailed off, looking towards where Scott and Allison were talking with a group of people while Victoria was being her usual adorable self.

 “Actually, they were really happy about Vicky. After so much bad news it was nice to get some great news. They also had already been in the process of planning their marriage - Allison got married in a truly gorgeous ceremony. Scott’s vows were nauseatingly sweet, but they’ve always been like that.” Jackson said cooly. Lydia didn’t even bother with a last cutting reply, just walked away, let Jackson tear her down if he felt the need.

 She came to a stop next to Isaac who was talking with three women Lydia didn’t recognize even a little.

 “Hey, Lyds, you remember the Ashley’s?” Isaac said, giving her a brief hug. “And this is Lydia Martin, just in case you guys couldn’t recognize her.” He continued, addressing the three women.

 Lydia was shocked that these three women were the girls once collectively known as “the Ashley’s”. Ashley Lupden, Ashlee Tallhanze, and Ashlei Bennagee were the largest wrestlers the high school had on their team. All three had a matching set of truly unfortunately ugly braces, greasy hair, and severe acne. The three women opposite her were nothing like that. All three of them had straight teeth, two of them had elbow-length hair while the last had a short cut that framed her face.Their complexions were clear and the only remnants from their wrestling days that Lydia could see was that they all had broad shoulders.

 “They were just telling me that they own their own business down in L.A.” Isaac said.

 “Yeah, we opened a Rescue Shelter for abandoned reptiles and birds. Its really fun and rewarding and all the animals are just so cool!” One of them said grinning.

 “Wow, congrats! Good to see that some of us made something of ourselves.” Lydia said in response.

 “Yeah, its not every class that can claim they went to school with a Fields Medal recipient. I’ve never been very good with math, but that was really impressive of you.” The short haired Ashley said.

 “Fields Medal recipient, a famous fiction writer, and I’ve bumped into a few lawyers and professional athletes. Talk about a successful class!” One of the other Ashley’s said with a laugh. Isaac ducked his head shyly, giving a little chuckle of his own.

 “Well, considering all the stuff that happened when we were in high school, I think we earned good adulthoods.” Lydia said, forcing some levity into her voice.

 “Well said.” A new voice - deep and smooth - said. A man wearing a suit and tie came into their little clump. He had blond hair and an expensive pair of glasses adorning his face. “I myself always felt I owed it to our fallen classmates to be successful. So much wasted potential.” He continued, face forming a facsimile of mournfulness. His eyes glinted as they landed on her and she clenched her jaw as a cold squiggle went up her arms. Isaac draped a protective arm around her back, making her tension increase.

 “Oh, let me guess - I’m ever so good with faces.” he said, turning to the three Ashley’s. “My goodness, are you three those Ashley girls? Life has treated you each wonderfully.” He said as the three girls preened under his attention. He complimented them on their summer dresses as Jackson made his way over to them, slipping his arm around her shoulders. Isaac’s arm slipped away from her, fingers touching hers in silent warning.

 “And of course Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittmore - still together I see. Or is it Lydia Whittmore nowadays?” The man - still a stranger to her - asked, grinning smugly at her. She smiled back at him, feeling fire gathering just underneath her skin.

 “It’s still Lydia Martin, actually. Dr. Martin actually. Jackson took my last name.” She said and the man nodded at her.

 “And Isaac Lahey - I’m pretty sure people could spot your head of curls anywhere.” He said, turning to Isaac and baring his teeth at him.

 “I don’t think I remember you.” Jackson said, sounding apologetic.

 “Anderson, Blake Anderson. We were on the swim team together for a little while, until you ditched us to concentrate on lacrosse.” Anderson said good naturedly.

 The name was familiar to her. Anderson had been the name of the police officer that had called her into questioning a few times, back when the Alpha Pack was in Beacon Hills. He had once kept her overnight on disorderly conduct charges. Stiles had the skin on his right arm ripped off that night, because she wasn’t able to make it to him because of those boogus charges. Kali’s watchdog Ennis did a number on him before he managed to get him weak enough for Erica and Boyd to kill him. Officer Anderson had also questioned her after Rebecca’s kidnapping and rescue, handcuffing her to the hospital bed she was recovering in. As if she could have been able to leave - between the painkillers she was on and the blood transfusions she couldn’t even sit up, much less do a runner.

 “And what do you do?” One of the Ashley’s asked.

 “Oh, I followed in my father’s steps - I’m a detective.” He said, looking back to Lydia and Jackson briefly. Lydia wondered if he was responsible for Stiles’ missing invitation.

 The rest of the reunion went by in much the same manner. They interacted with these people they protected but didn’t like much and Anderson shadowed them. At one point, Isaac muttered to her that Anderson didn’t smell right but wouldn’t say anything else.

 Victoria was starting to get noticeably tired and probably hungry by 5pm - her manners were dropping and she started whining more - so they all made the collective decision to duck out early. Anderson moved away from his latest group and smoothly blocked their way to the exit. His stance was non-threatening but Scott’s jaw twitched and Allison picked Victoria up. Boyd moved next to Allison while Isaac and Erica put themselves in front of her. Jackson’s arm slipped from around her waist to give her room to move if need be.

 “Leaving so soon? It’s barely five o’clock.” Anderson said, eyes a touch too calculated for Lydia’s comfort.

 “Our daughter is getting hungry, so we figured we should pack it in.” Allison said, voice tight. Anderson’s eyes traveled to Victoria and Lydia stepped forward as Scott and Allison moved around Anderson to leave. Erica and Isaac moved so that they were both between Allison and Anderson, already discussing what to do for dinner.

 “I’ve been wondering how you managed to afford that lovely suit on your salary. Did Beacon Hills give detectives a raise since we left?” Lydia asked. He gave her a look that would have intimidated a lesser person before answering her.

 “Oh, this was a gift. There’s a small ceremony I have to go to after this, so I figured I’d go from here instead of having to make a special trip home to change. Not to be rude, Mrs. Martin, but I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your trip to Beacon Hills, nothing too invasive, just a few questions about some things that have happened since you got here late friday.” He said and she felt a touch of magic against her. It was weak and brought to mind ants and centipedes, crawling without a real purpose or destination.

 “Dr. Martin, Anderson, not Mrs. And my business in Beacon Hills is the same as countless others - I’m here for my ten year high school reunion. I have to get going, my husband is probably waiting for me.” Lydia said, walking forward and making him move out of her way.

 The touch of magic from before slide across her as she passed by and she paused at the exit, seemingly fixing a strand of hair, and felt it latch onto her ankle, like an ankle monitor. She let it stay there until Scott drove them back to their hotel before grabbing it and yanking it off of her. It twisted and thrashed, reminding her of her kanima, but she held it steady while setting it ablaze. She could feel Anderson screaming and did not let up until there was no trace of his magic anywhere.

 Let that teach him some manners.

* * *

“A magic user?” Jackson asked, wide eyed. Lydia nodded in response.

 “He’s weak but he’s aware of his magic, it’s not a case of unconscious usage. He’s active in his usage of it and that’s probably what made him smell wrong to Isaac.” She said.

 Erica and Victoria were in Scott and Allison’s room playing while everyone else piled in Boyd, Erica, and Isaac’s room.

 “He wanted to ask you questions, about what?” Boyd asked. He was sitting on the edge of a bed, leaning forward. Scott was pacing.

 “He made it sound like he was asking why I was here. You know, in one of those obnoxious ‘I know what you’re up to’ voices. And he said something happened the night we got here, like he was implying I had something to do with it. I think he was using his magic to make me more agreeable but its hard to know for sure with magic that weak.” Lydia explained.

 “We’re leaving. Everyone pack up.” Scott said suddenly, coming to a stop in front of Jackson. He didn’t say anything else and within a minute Erica and Victoria were in the room as well. Allison grabbed Victoria, who was asking questions, while everyone else moved in quick precision, never leaving the human pack members unattended as they went from room to room.

 “Shit.” Boyd said suddenly, causing all movement to stop. Jackson had just finished zipping up the last bag, Victoria’s bright purple toy bag. “The police are coming up here, they have a warrant to search our things.” He said, eyes glowing and teeth elongated. 

 “Are they blocking both stairways?” Allison asked, shushing Victoria.

 “No, they’re using the one next to Lydia and Jackson’s room.” Scott said before turning and grabbing his family’s bags. “The back stairs are closer to the car anyway, thankfully. Victoria, I need you to keep quiet, okay?” He continued as he rushed Allison out in front of him. Isaac and Boyd followed after, taking the rest of the bags.

 Erica and Jackson put Lydia in between them as they moved out into the hallway. They had just closed the door to the back stairs when the stairway door next to the room Lydia and Jackson had rented was thrown open and officers came out, guns drawn.

 “I’ve never been more happy that Beacon Hills county doesn’t have a lot of funding. This out the backdoor shit wouldn’t have worked in Oakdale.” Erica commented grimly as they hurried down the stairs.

 Scott was already buckled in and the car idling at the curb when they got to the parking lot. He made sure to drive slowly and not draw attention to them as they drove right by some police cars. Jackson pulled out his tablet to check out of their rooms early, commenting about how the internet makes their lives so much easier.

 Everyone was tense and quiet the whole way home.

* * *

Lydia was the one who told Derek about their near miss in Beacon Hills. The rest of the pack figured she’d be able to stay calm as he raged and went threw his Alpha posturing. He told her, ordered her really, not to tell Stiles about it. She agreed it was for the best and spread the word amongst the pack and everyone just tried to forget about the whole thing.

 That was made easier by no police in Oakdale calling on them and life went on.

* * *

Lydia opened the door to Derek and Stiles’ house quietly, aware that it was Nap Time and if she woke up any of the children during this time she’d face Stiles’ wrath. Derek, who was on his laptop in the living room, waved her onwards into the small study off the kitchen that Stiles used as his office.

 Stiles was looking over what could only be essays when she eased the door open and poked her head in. Stiles grinned at her, waving her in and setting his reading glasses down on a pile of papers as she settled in the chair in front of his deak.

 “Sorry to disturb you, Professor Hale. Are you free?” She asked with a smile.

 “Not a Professor just yet, not till grades go in. And yes, I’m free Dr. Martin.” He replied teasingly, setting his grading pen down on the desk to give her his full attention.

 “Something is different with you.” She said, getting right to the point. Her connection to Stiles was telling her something was off with him, but it wasn’t an urgency like when he was hurt, so she didn’t think anything was wrong. Physically, at least, he was fine. 

 (Going to MIT was all sorts of _fun_ what with her connection to Stiles. Sometimes she couldn’t feel him at all and it made her throat dry up and her stomach churn. She used to have dreams of copper and gunfire and wake up feeling a strange buzz just underneath the surface. Other times she could taste what he ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and felt as if she had crawled inside him. She and Jackson were the last ones told about Stiles’ pregnancy, but she had known that something was inside him, had felt echos of something crawling inside her when she was too connected to him. Most of the time she felt him like a phantom limb or a strange sense of deja vu. She much prefers what they have now.)

 “Yeah, I know.” Stiles said, a tendril of his magic (sage, the smell of rain, the taste of peaches, and honey) coiling around her fingers, coaxing her own magic to the surface. It was comforting, calming and second nature to them by now, to comfort each other in their own unique way. “I said goodbye to my father finally. It was...hard.” He said after his magic and hers had coiled together around their joined hands (sage mixing with jasmine, a crack of thunder during a rainstorm, the aftertaste of mint and something vaguely cinnamon-y).  

 She sees the Sheriff, older now with more gray hairs, in front of her saying _You married him_ shocked and amazed. A stab of anger and pain surges up her spine along with it. She sees that man, that pathetic excuse of a man, say _I had to protect my family_ and feels a rush of hurt and cold agony at being excluded from that category. Stiles’ magic uncoiled from hers and the images faded.

 “I’m sorry.” She said quietly. She could feel fire inside her, the whisper of scales and her kanima at the back of her mind stirred while she reached out to take hold of Stiles’ hand. “I’m sorry he hurt you again and that I couldn’t stop him.” She continued, squeezing lightly on his hand.

 “Its not your job to protect me.” Stiles said, smiling at her.

 “We’re pack; of course it’s my job.” She retorted. Her kanima hissed, displeased in the back of her mind, and she clenched her jaw momentarily to calm her pet. “I offered you something once.” She said quietly after a long, comfortable silence and Stiles’ grip on her hand tightened.

 “No. That’s not what we did that for, he’s not...My father doesn’t fit that criteria, Lyds, you know that.” He said, firm with an undercurrent of weariness. She’s well aware that her pet only goes after murderers, but she’d be willing to bend that rule just a smidge for Stiles’ sake, if he asked it of her.

 “The offer stands.” She said.

 (they talk about boring things after this, like school and Lydia’s next mathematical genius, which I’d describe if I was talented even a little at math. Castiel wakes up first and bless werewolf hearing because Derek gets to him before he feels the need to announce that he’s amongst the waking world by wailing. Elessar wakes up when Lydia leaves, hearing her car start. He helps grade Stiles’ papers by putting all the essays with stickers in one pile and the rest in another. The stickered essays were the ones that students wanted back, for one reason or another, and they provided the needed letter and stamp. Elessar also gets to put more stickers - batman and super ninja princess ones - one the letters after they’re ready to be mailed off. Castiel learns another word, after he pours his sippy cup full of milk over Derek’s head. Its a very productive evening.)

* * *

One day, Lydia thinks she and Stiles will get drunk together and she’ll finally be able to get how much she hates the Sheriff off her chest. One day, he’ll tell her all about how he feels about his father, in words and magic, and she hopes that when that day comes it’ll do them both some good.

Life goes on.


End file.
